Everything
by Niki Chidon
Summary: GoldenEye. James and Alec shared everything, even showers. Slash. Not AU, no happy endings. James/Alec, James/Natalya.


Everything

...

"He was your friend – Trevelyan. And now he is your enemy and you will kill him. It is that simple?" Natalya was demanding in her passionately insistent voice but James held onto his mask.

"In a word, yes."

Easy? No, not even after all these years but he wasn't about to let her see that. If he didn't admit to it, even to himself, maybe he really could kill Alec.

So he used her, like so many women before her, hid the memories against her skin, drowned their sound in her moans.

Afterwards, still lying on the beach, she held him, as if understanding the pain under his passion.

"He said... you used to share everything," she said quietly against his neck.

Everything...

"Even showers," he admitted, smiling slightly, so relaxed that some of the memories seeped through.

...

Alec was sitting in a plane, on his way to Cuba, reliving his memories. After all, what else did he have?

It had been painful seeing James again, painful and wonderful. He had changed so little... He still looked the same. Alec knew there would be more scars but at least on James they weren't readily visible. And he was still the perfect little agent.

He'd admired the loyalty and certainty way back in the day. Had dreamed of having that loyalty directed at himself but always knew that for James it was always for England, for the mission... not for his friend. Or lover.

They'd shared everything, and it hadn't made a difference. Everything; even showers.

He grinned at the memory, momentarily forgetting the present day.

They had been wired after a mission, too restless to stay in and sleep the exhaustion off. So they'd had a woman for the night, some nameless blonde picked up at the hotel bar – they'd shared her, as they had shared the room and the bed. They had done all that regularly even before they started sleeping together. And, as always, they had been good – given all their attention to her, hardly touching each other. It had worked, as always. It took the edge off. Drowned the memories of flying bullets and blood and the things you had to do for your country.

Afterwards, James had gone to take a shower, leaving him to get rid of the girl.

"So..." She had been flirty to the last moment. "You always share everything?" she'd asked at the door, and he had merely grinned in return.

"Yeah, even showers."

Then he'd followed James who had turned around sharply when he moved the curtain. His smile had been relieved when realizing it was Alec. Had he expected an enemy? Or the girl?

"Sloppy, 007."

"I knew you had my back," James had replied, smiling slightly, and moved to wrap his arms around him.

Alec could have sworn he had been fully satisfied by their acrobatics with the girl but the first touch of James's skin against his had inflamed his senses all over again.

"You're insatiable," he had muttered against the neck he had bent to nibble.

"You complaining?"

"Never."

Never. He had never denied James anything. Not since the first time.

...

"For England, James?" Alec asked, softly, seconds from death, like an eerie echo of his last words the previous time he 'died'.

"No. For me," James replied quietly, and let him fall to his death, for real this time.

_For me_. He had no time to reminiscent about the last time they'd exchanged those words right then, jumping to the 'chopper, still in danger.

But afterwards, having again done what Alec accused him of doing – finding forgiveness in the arms of a willing woman – he lay on the hotel bed next to Natalya's sleeping body and remembered.

He'd gone in search of his friend as soon as he'd got the assignment. He'd killed, he'd seduced women, he'd thought he'd done everything his country would require of him... until they had assigned him to this case.

A simple seduction mission. Except that the target was a man.

"What's up?" Alec had asked, smiling. He'd always smiled at him, despite the situation, and James had drawn comfort from the smile even before he'd truly understood the reason behind it.

"I..." he had been lost for words, and had simply handed the folder to Alec.

He hadn't really been supposed to do that but Alec did hold the necessary clearance.

"So?... Oh. Your first?"

He'd nodded wordlessly, and Alec had led him to his apartment silently.

"It's not really different from the other kinds of missions, James," Alec had explained while offering him a drink.

"You... you've done them?"

Alec's smile had been free of humour.

"I... It's different for me."

James had looked at him, waiting for the explanation, not wanting to guess.

"After my parents died, I lived in the streets," Alec had said after a while, his back to James.

"I did whatever I had to to survive. Sometimes that meant selling myself. Men, women.. it made no difference, as long as it meant I ate afterwards."

James was too well trained to let the numb shock he had felt show but he had felt as if he had been sucker-punched.

"After I was recruited..." Alec had shrugged. "Maybe they thought I'd have no problems doing for my country what I had done for money."

"Alec..."

"Or maybe I just fitted the profiles better and was therefore used more often than others."

"Alec..."

"You just do what you do. Shut it out."

"Alec." James had tried for the third time and had accentuated the words with a slight touch on his friend's arm.

Alec had met his eyes and smiled. "Just one of those things we do for England, James."

He'd gulped down his drink and James had dried his own and asked for a refill wordlessly by holding his glass out to Alec.

Alec had matched him drink for drink and after the first bottle James had had enough courage to revisit the subject.

"I'm supposed to be experienced. And submissive. You know what that means."

"It means you're about to get shagged," Alec had summed artlessly. "And you're supposed to enjoy it."

"M pretty much ordered me to do whatever it takes to be ready for the mission next week."

"What, the old man told you to go get laid?" Alec had laughed. "And you came to me? Why, I'm flattered, James."

He'd met Alec's eyes wordlessly, and the laughter had died down.

"No," Alec had said, decisively, getting up and again turning his back to James.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he'd instantly said, ashamed. Not that he had explicitly asked but thinking about everything Alec had gone through...

"Not for the reasons you think," Alec had explained, turning back and seemingly reading his mind.

He'd frowned.

"I don't... dislike it. I do occasionally seek out men for pleasure."

"But not me?"

"Not you. James, I couldn't. Not, and be your friend."

"You'd think less of me because you shagged me?" he'd asked, curious and a little hurt.

"God, no." The denial had been instantaneous and had warmed his heart. "I couldn't forget. Couldn't not want it again."

Looking at his friend, even through the alcoholic haze James had started to understand.

"You want me," he'd breathed and Alec had answered with a joyless smile.

"Then why don't you take what you can?" James had asked, confused.

"Because it's more than that. I care about you. I can't afford to care, nor can you. But I would... care more. I couldn't keep it light, like with the women, I would... it would complicate things."

Suddenly James had wanted nothing more than that complication. Had wanted the fire hinted at in his friend's eyes. He'd never even thought about sex with men before, or looked at Alec that way except on the abstract level where he appreciated beauty in all of its forms but at that moment he had felt the need to kiss his friend as a physical pain.

He pulled Natalya closer, aroused against his will by the memories.

They had kissed. Well, he had kissed Alec who had tried to fight it but he'd been too drunk and too aroused to resist long. They had been swept away by the passion which had surprised and delighted James in equal measure.

But Alec had refused to take him. In a moment of clarity he had demanded that James ask for it only when sober.

"Only if it's for you. Not for England."

So he had asked the following morning. That night had awoken the insatiable hunger towards his friend he would never get rid of. The tenderness in Alec's eyes and voice when he had asked, "For England?" before possessing him...

"For me," he had replied, and pulled his face down for a kiss.

By the time he had started the mission the following week he had known enough to survive. And he had returned to Alec's arms to recover.

When James had seen Alec get shot in front of his eyes it had felt like the bullet had hit his own body. He had dismissed the feeling as he would have the wound in his own body. Survival, mission, escape – his training had kicked in and gotten him out.

Only afterwards, back in London, had he been able to let the feelings free reign. He had gone to Alec's apartment, crawled in his bed with a bottle of his whiskey and cried. It was ugly and awkward – he wasn't used to crying, after all.

The memory of those tears surfaced when, years later, he saw Alec's scarred face for the first time. Still so beautiful and so – him. But now he was a traitor to everything James believed in, and it had felt like his friend had died again – like the man he had thought he knew had never existed at all.

When James said "I trusted you" he could have said 'I loved you' but that couldn't have meant more to them than trust.

"Trust? What a quaint idea," Alec had replied, and had James had a heart it would have been broken all over again.

"Which would you rather have, trust or love?" he asked Natalya.

"Love. Although... without trust there can be no love. Still, I wouldn't base a relationship on trust alone."

"They can be closer together than one might think," James said quietly, turning his head away.

She looked at him, as if finally understanding.

"You really shared everything," she concluded.

"Everything but trust."

.. .. .. the end .. .. ..


End file.
